My Life is Surrounded by Flipping Dumbfarts
by insanelymadferret
Summary: Terror strikes when the evil Emperor Britney Spears threatens to use her newly created Really Bad Breath Star on the Pop Rock Alliance if they refuse to hand over the Jonas Brothers. Our pessismistic hero Chuck must save them, but he really doesn't want t


"**My life is surrounded by flipping Dumbfarts"**

**A Star Wars Parody**

**As told by Chuck Dufus**

A long time ago, in a very perverted Galaxy far, far away…

One question, if Star Wars and all that crap happened such a "llloooonnnnnggggg time ago" how the heck did we go from space-cars and laser blasters to stinking BMWs and using little metal balls to kill people? So uncool. I mean really. The person who wrote this script must have got up in the morning and had a bowl of stupid for breakfast. How in the world did he make like a gazillion dollars? I don't know; but anyway, some idiot decided this all happened "a llloooonnnnnggggg time ago" so that's what I'll stick to.

By the way, I'm Chuck Dufus. Make fun of my name, and I'll shove a copy of _Spaceballs _up your butt. So no laughing! Sorry, little touchy. But the Director could've given me a better name. I suppose it's better than Starwalker, or whatever the famous craphead's name is. How lame.

Anyway, I suppose I should follow Director Dumb's instructions and start the story, and he calls me Dufus… So it's 300,000 B.C. or whatever and I'm driving my shiny new space-car to work. (Does that even _sound_ like it makes sense???) Sorry, I'm touchy bout the time thing too. Focus, Chuck. Focus.

As I pull up to my station a fellow co-worker waves happily at me, the very annoying type.

"It's going to be a great day today, Dufus!"

Yeah right. I slipped my uniform over my "Good Morning! Let the Stress Begin!" T-shirt. Yep, we got T-shirts too; thousands of years before you dumbfarts even invent toilet paper. Of course, who wipes anyway? Focus, Chuck. Anyway, where was I? Oh, my uniform and that annoying dumbfart. Seriously, happy people annoy me. Go work with Barny or at Mcdonald's or something. Dumbfart.

So I get my uniform on and ignore the happy idiot prancing along behind me, who is he? Gildroy Lockhart? Go back to Harry Potter, idiot.

"Hey Chuck! Guess what Chuck?!"

"I don't care."

"I'm going to Candy Mountain! Wanna come, Chuck?"

Excuse me, Charlie the flipping Unicorn Idiot.

"No."

"But come on! It's land of sweets and joy, and joyness."

"No."

"But Chuck!!!"

Suddenly, an annoying beeping sound went off, the alarm, signaling some threat of dreaded danger. Why can't alarms be like those nice woman's voices you hear on Tom-toms? "Warning there is danger, scream in terror and run around in flipping circles. You dumbfarts." I think that would be much nicer. But no, annoying beeping; everyone will be running for aspirin before they go to see whatever the trouble is. Dumbfart alarm people…

Anyway, I suffer from headaches frequently so I carry a bottle with me; thus enabling to take my own pills on the way up. All these fancy-spancy space-cars and they haven't figured out how to put our brains in jars to get rid of these goodness awful headaches. Dumfarts. You should hear the people at work, I get all these stupid questions; "Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle, where do baby's come from, why don't chicken breasts have nipples…" Who flipping cares?! Focus Chuck…

Anyway, despite my preparedness the control room was full when I got there. Hm, I guess dumbfarts don't take aspirin. Must have something to do with the fact that they don't have brains. But anyway, this whole mess must be caused by something; maybe all the toilets are clogged, or little Jimmy stuck his hand in the paper shredder again cause he's a dumbfart. Joy oh Joy.

General what-his-face got up in front of everyone, face creased with worry- like you get when you're all constipated; I forgot to complain about that, I'll get to it later.

"My fine, honorable recruits…"

I raised my hand, as no one else fit this description.

"…there has been a disturbance. The Evil Emperor Britney Spears has created a new weapon, the really bad breath star; and is about to threaten to use it on the Pop Rock Alliance. I'm afraid the Alliance won't hold once they know the horror they're in now."

"What does she want?" someone asked

What's-his-face paused a moment dramatically before he said, "The Jonas Brothers."

The Heck? I guess they don't call it a perverted galaxy for nothing… and if this happened such a long time ago, how the heck did the Jonas Brothers get here? Flipping dumbfarts! Stay in your own flipping time zone! This is where they'll send me off on some goodness awful adventure I bet ya, cause everyone else is too much of a dumbfart to do it. Wonderful. How in the world did they get this Intel anyway? Not like information like this just pops out of empty space.

Someone asked a similar question.

"If she hasn't made the ransom yet, how do we know this is all happening?"

"That's very simple, young Jimmy, look outside."

We all turned. Ah, of course. We were in Star Wars, random yellow letters were scrolling across space. I forgot George Dumbfart was flat broke when he made the movie and thus couldn't afford a narrator. I bet he filmed it in his backyard.

And, wait for it…Yep. Frick and frack; there's my name in the stupid yellow letters. Maybe they won't notice…

"The all knowing Times New Roman has spoken!" shouted Commander Craphead

I stepped forward, "Its Arial you dumbfart, and I don't see any possible reason you could provide for me to go on this little venture."

"I know what you mean, Chuck." said little Jimmy "Away from here, and all these people for so long…"

"Never mind! You've convinced me!" I shouted.

Yes! Weeks and weeks alone without out all these stupid dumbfarts. I hope they make a sequel where Britney builds a lemonade ray in Hawaii.

"When do I leave for vacation, I mean, my mission?"

"Hmmm…" hummed the commander, putting his hand on his chin.

Great. He's thinking. This could be awhile.

"Well…"

Yes, come on.

"I think…"

Miracles do happen.

"that…"

Three words. Almost there.

"You're not powerful enough."

What?!

"And besides, I have no idea where the heck you're going."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Oh that's nice. I suppose the flipping 'all powerful times new roman' wasn't very specific. Where do the flipping yellow letters come from anyway? Does Chuck Norris have some sort of type writer in the sky? What's next, Clay Aiken leading raging tribes of Telitubies?"

Of course, behind me I spied some nerdy kid running after these freaky munchkin what'cha-me-calls all shouting "Goo-goo, gah-gah."

"What kind of perverted story is this?" I wondered "The youth of America must have some pretty dang sick minds."

Commander Dumbfart shrugged, "The speeders are this way." And pointed me to the hanger.

I'm going to regret this…

So here I am, some idiot little kid talked me into going on this goodness awful mission, and I like the flipping, flapping, over the edge dumbfart I am; listened. Well at least they gave me a cool ship. It's a Q-wing starfighter. Why did they make it in the shape of a flipping Q? I dunno, probably because they're a bunch of dumbfarts. You should know that by now. But at least the thing has a built in coffee maker and spa. Yayness.

"Go to the Bling-go-ba system, there you will find the mysterious Yoga. He will show you the way." said the what's-his-face Commander guy

"The crap is Bling-go-ba?" I said

"George Lucas can make up retarded names and make lots of money off of them, why can't I?"

"Whatever, How will if find this Yoga fellow?"

I bet he's a dumbfart.

"Big Sign, Flashing lights; can't miss him."

"Oh, Vegas type fellow. Maybe he'll try to steal my money in his big fancy-spancy casino." Great. A stealing crook of a dumbfart.

So I got in the shiny Q-wing, plugged flipping "Bling-go-ba" in on the GPS and sped off towards the stinking planet. Since it's not my car, I also scratched the paint on the way out. Let the dumbfarts take care of it when I get back. Heh Heh.

I never asked about gas. Even in 200,000 or whatever B.C. - prices suck. Greedy crapheads. They would charge us for air too if they could think of a way to bottle it. Dumbfarts.

Maybe I'm being a little hard on everyone. A little too pessimistic. Perhaps I need to get in touch with my nice, gentle, feminine side…HA! Do I look like a pansy to you? There all dumbfarts anyway.

If you haven't noticed, dumbfart is my favorite vocabulary word. Got a problem with that? Guess what? I don't frickin care! Go write your own flipping story! I'm trying to go on vacation here if you haven't noticed.

I wonder what this flipping "Bling-go-bah" place is like…sunny beaches? a large metropolitan paradise? Free _Kool Aid_ at the local pool? Hmmm…

3 Hours, a nap, and a soda later…

_Now Entering Chi-chi-wa system, ETA for planet Bling-go-bah: 3½ minutes. _

Oh! Freaky, disembodied computer voice... I wonder who records that crap? They should make one with Michael Jackson, "Bow! Almost there!" that way they can add on that freaky moonwalk music as the car alarm. Either that or Arnold Schwarzenegger; "Step away from the vehicle or you will be…terminated." Nah, no one can understand the craphead anyway. Sounds like a freaking ape with a speech impediment. Moron. The frick is "The Terminator" anyway? Sounds like the guy who sprays my house for bugs every week.

Speaking of Michael Jackson, have you ever met someone who can fart in tune to _Thriller_? Heh, heh. Scared the crap out of a bunch of kids doing that one time, then I took their lunch money. Was funny as Rosie O'Donnell at the pole vault in the Olympic games. Ha! She'd probably bend the thing in half before she got off the ground. Call Jenny you fat lard.

_Now arriving in the Bling-go-bah system._

Great! I really gotta frick'n go to the bathroom!

_Docking now._

"Welcome to Bling-go-Bah!" said some weird elephant face as I got off the ship. "My name is Jimmy Dean, how may I help you?"

"Jimmy Dean? The Breakfast guy?" That commercial always freaked me out;"The Eggs are from real chickens, the milk is from real cows, The Sausage is from Jimmy Dean…" The crap were they thinking?! I've been too afraid to eat sausage since.

"No sir, my mom sure did love that stuff though, she ate about four packages a day."

I shuddered, "I'm looking for a hotel, swimming pool, cup of lemonade, and a long flipping massage. Oh yeah, some Yoga craphead too."

His eyes widened, "You seek Yoga?"

"Yes."

"You seek Yoga?"

"What are you deaf?"

"You. Seek. Yoga?"

"Yes. I. Seek. Yoga."

"Yoga?"

"Yes! I seek freaking Yoga!"

"Why didn't you say so? Follow me."

And that, kids, is why you don't do drugs.

The Idiot led me through all these loops, turns, and a couple Chinese food places before we finally started to come up on Yo-craphead's place. He may have stupid workers, but the guy had style, his home was a large condo and a big flashing "Yoga is Hotter than You" sign.

"This way please to…" his eyes widened in admiration, "Yoga."

Wow. What a pansy.

Me and the pansy craphead road the elevator up to Yoga's room, good 259 floors. Show off. When it stopped we entered into a garden like area where some green thing that was trying to put his foot behind his head.

"Yoga…" he said

_That _was _Yoga_?! Looked like a freaking muppet show reject.

"What are you, a rat?"

"Me not rat, Fatboy! And if you call me freaking Sesame Street Puppet, I kick your crusty white butt. Now shut up! I stretching."

Ohhhh, a smart alec rat. If this story wasn't G-rated, I'd be swearing at the little green rodent.

"So you're the one who's supposed to help me beat this Britney Dumbfart?"

"I said shut up Fatboy! I stretching!"

He looked like a frickin moldy pretzel.

"Look I just want to get out of here and to a flipping hotel, so just say what you need to say, your green furriness, I can leave and then we'll all be happy."

He sprung up like some flipping ninja.

"No Hotels! We start training your crusty behind! You learn…"

He did a backflip.

"Agility."

He stuck his foot behind his flipping head again.

"Flexibility!"

He started running in circles.

"And…"

Faster circles.

"Battle Technique!"

He hit me in the crotch with his flipping walking stick.

"You green butt crack! The heck is wrong with you?!"

"One more thing you must be trained in, the power of…"

"Oh wait, let me guess… the force?"

"No! The flipping powerpuff girls! Shut the crap up Fatboy!"

"I AM NOT FAT!"

"Of course you are! You look freaking 6 months pregnant!"

"You little..."

"Must I repeat myself!?! Shut the crap up!"

The furball composed himself.

"You must be trained in the power of…the horse."

"The horse? The frick is the horse?"

"It is the power your great grandfather passed down to you; it implies the ability to generate random farm animals out of mid air."

"The heck kind of power is that?"

"Budget cuts. We couldn't afford the force so we had to go non-brand name."

"Wonderful."

"You must learn the power of the horse if in fact you are to defeat Britney Spears."

"What does she have? The Dark side of the Horse? What? Are they a flipping different color or something?"

"No fool! She has the Dragonball!"

"Flipping Dragonball Z now?!"

Yoga shrugged, "She watches a lot of Cartoon Network."

"Great, next she'll be using pokemon as Storm Troopers."

"No, that would be lame. She has an army of mutant potatoes."

"AND THAT'S NOT LAME?! Oh well, I guess I'll make some McDonald's while I'm there."

"Idiot! If you get too close to one, it will kill you! She has trained them to sing her hit singles constantly!"

"Great, anything else I should know about?"

"The really bad breath star may only be destroyed by deploying a mento bomb into the main core reactor."

"Oh, that will be easy."

"The entrance hole is roughly the size of a pea."

"Frick you."

"One last thing…"

"What now?"

"Her apprentice…"

"Great, a Darth Vader wanna-be. What is it, some guy running around in a black Spiderman mask?"

"Rick Astley."

"Oh no! Not the 'We're No Strangers to Love' craphead from all those goodness awful, 'Rick Rolled' youtube clips."

"Yes, and he brought his cousin."

"He has a cousin?"

"Frank, some Idiot who runs around in a Nets Jacket and Speedo all day."

"Shoot me."

So much for vacation, this Yoga craphead has made me do pushups, flip hamburgers, and practice plugging my ears all day long for the past three weeks. On top of that, there's this other Dumfart teacher he assigned to work with me, Obi-wan Bon-Jovi. He keeps on breaking out into random choruses of "Living on a Prayer." Flipping awful.

"More pushups Fatboy!" was all Yoga would say while he ate tofu, with his foot behind his flipping head of course. "You remind me of flipping Kung-fu Panda! I bet if we tried plastic surgery, you'd break the liposuction machine!"

"Put a sock in it, muppet."

"What you call me Fatboy?"

That's when he hit me in the crotch again. I got so mad a cow poofed out of nowhere and dropped on his head.

"Good Fatboy! You learning! Now more pushups!"

This continued on for about a month, when I was done with flipping dumfart's training he took me to a sacred hall where he said it was time for a final test. It was hard to concentrate though, because flipping Bon-Jovi kept humming music from "Rocky" as I climbed the staircase.

"Shut up Dumfart!"

"Now Fatboy, one last exercise must you complete. Behold, your weapon!"

He held up a ragged old umbrella.

"The Crap?"

"It is a laser umbrella you moron!"

"Laser umbrella?"

"Budget cuts."

"Of course."

"Your last exercise is…to defeat me." He threw the umbrella, "Defend yourself!"

I picked up the flipping thing and turned to Rat-boy. He did a ninja pose, and took out his staff; apparently also a lightsabor. Bon-Jovi started humming _The Final Countdown_.

"Bring it Rat-muppet." I said

His eyes narrowed, then he attacked.

"We're living togethaaaaaa!!!" sang Bon

Yoga did one of his "look at me I'm a show off!" backflips and I countered with a rolling dodge. Our blades met and sparks flew everywhere like the flipping Fourth of July. I opened my umbrella and pushed forward, using it as a shield to drive him back. The craphead spun around and came at me from an angle but I parried. He starting running around me, doing backflips in circles.

"What are you? A freaking ballerina?"

I lunged forward with my sword, missed, and then noticed Bon standing there; still singing. I punched him in the mouth.

Yoga came at me, I blocked, but he swung again and again; harder each time.

"You shall never defeat me! I am invincible, too awesome, powerful!"

Not if I can help it rat boy, I had a plan. I'd been practicing backflips and sword moves. I'd do a triple somersault, catapult myself off the wall, twist my body around; then do a triple cut sword move like I saw in mortal combat once. Then I'd backflip again, shoot myself straight forward, and make a straight lunging blow to his torso; come around and go for his head, back, and neck.

Then I thought about it and just dropped a cow on the sucker and was done with it.

"Can I go now?"

So after much work and hard training, I had defeated that craphead rat. He decided to put the coordinates for the Really Bad Breath Star in an old kitchen appliance on wheels named R2-Toaster, who was joined by his friend C3-Expresso and a toilet named Paul. That's just great, now I got a bunch of flipping robotic household items to deal with. The stupid things are going to eat all my double A's.

If the Robots weren't enough, Yoga wouldn't let me leave without Obi-wan since he was his long time student and thought I still wasn't ready. Sour pus, he was still ticked at the cow thing. Said it was cheating. Heh heh, looser.

But at least I'm out of there and finally on my way, Bon-jovi has taken to "entertaining" everybody now with rising choruses of _The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round. _If he doesn't shut up soon, I'll stab him with my freaking umbrella. Dumbfart.

"Hey, coffee craphead! Make me a cup will ya?"

This adventure stuff was getting annoying. All Yoga eats is Chinese junk, so I've been surviving on flipping Dumpling Pizza for all this time. Time for some real food.

"GPS! Where's the nearest Olive Garden?"

_Olive Garden located across from Maggiano's Little Italy_ _on Planet Tortellini._

"Well then, set course for planet Tortellini!"

"No! No! No! STICK TO THE STATUS QUO!" replied Bon-Jovi

"Flipping High School Musical? I knew you were annoying but didn't realize you were a frootloop."

"I think what Master Jovi is trying to say is that Planet Tortellini is extremely dangerous right now. That planet is known for its Italian cuisine, however Java the Hut paid off the evil Emperor to destroy it to increase the popularity of his large coffee chain. The Emperor is currently attacking it with starships shaped like giant pizzas." said the Espresso robot dumbfart.

"Whatever! Computer take me there!"

_Estimated Time of Arrival 20 minutes._

I don't know what they're all so freaked out about; Bon-jovi has been humming funeral music since I told the ship to take us to get some grub. It'll all be fine. We're just about there and it's not like they're going to attack us or somethi-

_WARNING! SHIP ATTACK! HULL DAMAGE 20%! EVASIVE MANUVERS!_

In a moment everything went from calm and normal to ballistic; like my sister once a month. These pizzas were firing anchovy rockets and tearing the ship to bits.

"I just want some freaking breadsticks!"

"HOLD ON! JUST HOLD ON!!!!" sang Bon in his best Jonas brothers impression

The ship spun out of control, reminded me of a really large turd I flushed down the toilet once. Seriously, this thing was huge. But that's a story for later. For now, we were plummeting to the ground.

"I don't want to frickin die! Take Bon! He's a dumbfart anyway!"

We were falling! Frick this! I want go home and watch flipping CSI and 24! How did I get myself into this mess? If I had only been warned!

Suddenly, a huge bang was heard throughout the ship.

"Bang."

Aw great, we've landed. Too bad my flipping Q-fighter looks like a W now. Maybe I'll start a new trend; they'll make a ship for every letter of the alphabet. Except 'X'. What an overused stupid letter. Looks like a guy doing a flipping jumping jack. I think I'll omit x from every word for the rest of the story. Take that spell check! X-Fighters, what a dumb idea.

"Staying Alive! Staying Alive! Ah-ha-ha-ha! Staying Alive! Staying Alive!" announced Bon-jovi

"Shut up Bon, before I shove toaster boy up your butt. Hey Epresso? You still got my Coffee?"

"Yes sir, I'm fine by the way. My names not Epresso."

"I just announced I'm taking out all the x's, member?"

"You just said it by saying you're not saying it."

"No I didn't."

"What are you taking out again?"

"X."

"Ha! You did it again!"

"Well I have Immunity."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Shut up you robotic pain in the-"

The toaster guy started hopping up and down.

"What does he want?"

"He's wondering where Paul is."

"The flipping toilet?"

"They grew up together you know."

"One's a toilet and ones a toaster. One belongs in the kitchen and the other in the in the bathroom, how the flip did they grow up together?"

"Yoga sometimes wanted Toaster Strudel while he was struggling on the-"

"Never mind!"

So I drank my Coffee while they looked for the craphead. Heh. Craphead. He's a toilet. I crack myself up.

"Here he is!" shouted the Epresso guy

"He looks a little flushed." (Ha! Flushed! Get it? Oh I'm good.)

"Be quiet Chuck, its not easy being a Toilet."

"Yeah, what a crappy life."

"Well actually, he's only half a toilet. His mother was a sink and his dad was a toilet, but He's okay with that now."

"Very Interesting."

"I think he has a cousin who's a porty potty."

"Enough with the toilet!"

"Well you try being sat on all day, especially when everyone's gone out to taco bell-"

"ARGH! I'm getting something to eat."

"I like to eat, eat, eat Apples and Bananas!" sang Jovi

"Shut up, Bon."

So now I'm stuck on some flipping planet with no way off with a bunch of robots and some retarded singer. Great, how in the world am I going to get off this…

"You lost there?" said some idiot walking up

I looked behind me at the burning ship, looked back at the grinning idiot, looked back behind me.

"Naw, I just couldn't find a parking space."

"You look like you could use a ride."

"Very observant Dumbfart aren't you?"

"Where'd you come from?"

"Well when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…"

"No, no! What planet did you come all the way out here from?"

"Bling-go-whatever. Now if you excuse me, I need some Olive Garden; some green rat muppet jerk fed me nothing but Sushi for a month and my friend the toilet is tired of people having the runs."

His eyes widened, "You mean Yoga?"

"That's the craphead."

"Well then you must be…Chuck Dufus!"

"Oh great, now I'm famous. Let's stick to Chuck D. from now on; I'm a bit touchy bout the name."

"Well Chuck, I believe we can help each other. You see, the evil emperor's potato henchmen keep hijacking my equipment to shut down my restaurant."

"Ooh, Food? What do you sell?"

"My names Ham Baloney, I own a Deli."

"A Deli on an Italian restaurant planet?"

"What can I say? I'm an entrepreneur."

"Right."

"Anyways, if you promise to take care of my potato problem for me; my friend Chew-broccoli and I will get you off this planet."

"And how would I do that?"

"Break her mind control ray; I believe she keeps it in her left pocket."

"Goody."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, yeah. As long as we eat first."

"Agreed."

Great, another errand, but if I ever get out of this; maybe he'll be thankful and give me free subs, and I do love turkey…

I sat down at a table in Olive Garden with the Ham guy; Bon, Toaster, and Epresso had caught up with us, but toilet boy got all clogged up and they left him back at the ship. Ha! Clogged up! Another one! I should go into comedy, huh?

I had an order of breadsticks, but just as I lifted the delicious garlicky goodness up to my mouth…

"Warning! There is an intruder in the area! By the sources of a very credible toilet, we have learned it is none other than Chuck Dufus; one who is on a mission from the random yellow letters to defeat our beloved Britney Spears! The Spud Squad is coming to inspect this restaurant, please remained seated and calm."

Huh, I guess Paul got tired of all my puns. Jerk. I'd teach that no good bowl a lesson later. I'd give him a dump so big he'll have to clean his piping for a week.

"Dang it! Let's get out of here!" shouted Ham

Just then, bursting into the restaurant came a bunch of Potato's singing, "Hit me baby one more time!"

"It's the end of the world as we know it!" replied Bon; I punched him in the mouth again.

"Come on!" shouted Ham "If we get to the Black Penguin, Chewy will fly us out of here!"

"Run then, stupid Dumbfart!" I yelled

The potatoes began closing in on us, I poofed some chickens out of mid air and chucked them at 'em.

"Go! Go!" I shouted again

So we ran and ran, and I still didn't get my frickin breadsticks. Figures. The potatoes were coming closer and closer, I could hear their infernal singing burning into my skull.

"Just a little farther!" shouted Ham

We made it to the hanger, and there was his ship, and true to its name shaped like a flipping penguin.

"?!?"

I forgot to mention, Chew-Broccoli was from the ancient species of the broccolinese and spoke in a bizarre dialect of vegetable. However, I took the time to look it all up on the internet so you could understand whatever the heck he's saying.

"?" (The frick is all this?)

"Chewy! Get the engine fired up! I already got their galactic boarding passes on !" Ham yelled

The Potatoes burst in, singing and firing spud pistols.

"Now! Chewy!" shouted Ham

"." (Great. Another wonderful situation we're in here)

Everyone climbed into the ship, blaster fire erupted everywhere. Our ears ached.

"It's now or never!" shouted Ham "Prepare to launch into full throttle, Chewy!"

"." (We're all going to die.)

The ship shook like a grandma on a toilet, the engine roared like a fat guy chasing a Twinkie, sweat poured from Ham's face.

"10-9-7-6-5-4-3-2…Punch it Chewy!"

"." (Shoot me now.)

Broccoli boy hit the button; the ship lurched and quaked like never before! (This is going to be impressive! I can tell.) Then all the energy in the ship was released into one colossal, gigantic…

"Poof."

…puff of smoke?

"The crap?!" I shouted

"" (HAS IT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU A PEGUIN DOESN'T FLY?! EVER?!?!?!)

"Dang it! This stupid thing never works! We'll have to get to my other ship, the Cosmic Duck."

"And how do you suppose we do that?!" I asked "There must be a thousand flipping potatoes out there!"

"We'll need a good strategy…" said Ham

"" (Or we could just go out the back door, Idiot.)

"Toaster, you can come from the right and cause a distraction, while Chuck uses the Horse and I go around to take a couple shots from the rear."

"" (Hello??? Backdoor???)

"The coffee maker will jump off the roof…"

"" (Backdoor?!)

"And when I shout 'Now!', we'll all…"

"" (ARE YOU FLIPPING DEAF, YOU UGLY PIECE OF MEAT?! BACK DOOR!!!!)

"What did you say Chewy?" said Ham turning around, "Oh Hey, look at that! A backdoor! Maybe if we sneak out of there, they won't even see us!"

"" (I am going to kill you.)

So we all snuck out the conveniently placed back door while Bon-jovi hummed James Bond music for our escape.

"Shut up Dumbfart!"

I punched him in the mouth again.

When we finally arrived at the Cosmic Duck, Ham and Chew (sounds like a fast food place doesn't it?) sat down at the engines, which turned out to be nothing more than bicycle pedals.

"Prepare to engage Reserve Power!"

"" (Here we go again.)

"Begin Pedaling…NOW!"

The ship shook, the engine roared, sweat poured from Ham boy's face. (Again)

"Fire Ignition!"

And with a small "bang" and we were off.

"Bang."

Next time we fly, remind me to go Continental. Who does those stupid little sound effects anyway?

I looked behind me at Bon raising his hand, then punched him in the mouth again.

We were finally coming up on the Really Bad Breath Star; and boy, that thing was bigger than the mole on my Aunt Margie's…never mind. But the thing is HUGE, I can never pay attention cause it always jiggles when I talk to her, all hairy too. But anyway, back to the Breath Star.

"We should be able to go in undetected if we do this slowly, pedal quieter chewy." said Ham

"" (I hate my life.)

"Hey Chuck?"

"Yes Dumbfart?"

"I've always wondered; If a mute swears, does his mom make him wash his hands with soap?"

"The heck? Why do I care?! Just drive the stupid ship!"

"Just wondering."

"What is it with you people and dumb questions?"

"" (If a tree falls in the middle of a forest, and no one's around to hear it; does it still make a sound?)

"Good one Chewy!" said Ham "And what about this one…"

"Will you all just shut up!" I shouted

"If a car is traveling at the speed of light, and he turns on his lights; does anything happen?"

"You guys must get bored on long road trips."

The ship suddenly lurched.

"What's happening?" yelled the Coffee robot (We haven't given him a line in awhile)

"We're caught in a magneto beam!"

Of course, the Really Bad Breath Star had giant magnets aboard to reel in other ships instead of just blasting them to bits. Now we can get the grand tour!

"Hey Ham, I just remembered something, isn't there supposed to be this really hot princess I have to rescue on the ship; who begs them not to destroy her home planet of Bon-bon or something?"

"Naw, they never casted her."

"The heck? Why not?"

"Budget cuts."

"Figures."

"What are we going to do? Once we get inside, a bunch of potatoes will search the ship, and then we're caught for sure!"

"" (We could always just jettison the escape pods than hide under the secret compartment under the floor boards.)

"We'll need a plan, strategy…"

As Ham went on to explain a complicated battle plan, Chew-broccoli launched all the escape pods and held up a giant sign that said "Hide, Idiots."

"Wonderful Idea Chewy! Come on! They'll never find us in the bathroom stall! Everyone climb in!"

"" (You flipping Idiot.)

So we all squeezed into the one person bathroom stall as the ship was pulled into the hanger.

"Staying Alive! Staying Alive! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"

"Shut up Bon!"

I punched him in the mouth again.

As I got my flipping foot wet in the stinking toilet bowl, we heard music outside our door. The Potatoes were singing again; probably _Hit me Baby, One more time._ Fortunately, I had my ears plugged.

Finally one of them knocked on the door.

"Occupied!" shouted Ham

The potato-head opened the door (I don't know how, they don't exactly have arms. Maybe stuff just floats in front of them like in Veggie Tales or Half Life 2). He held up his pistol and was about to start singing. However, thinking quickly, I picked up Toaster-boy and chucked him at 'em.

"Come on! Let's go!" I yelled

On a positive note from this little venture, Epresso boy found Paul a new girlfriend, named Sue (she's the one I stepped in) and we all made restitution at some later date, lived happily ever after, blah blah blah.

We ran out of the Duck-mobile and around a corridor, bunches of mutant Potatoes were marching up and down the halls.

"" (We are so screwed.)

"What now Ham-head?" I asked

"Well Britney's on the third floor, once we take care of her the potatoes will be useless and we can blow up the ship."

"How the heck do you know she's on the third floor?"

"I googled it."

"Figures."

So we snuck around bunches of corridors, Bon-jovi singing spy songs all the way. We were about to make it into the throne room were Britney was when…

"We meet again Chuck Dufus, for the last time!"

It was Rick Astley and his cousin, Frank, who was wearing a speedo.

"We've never before, Idiot." I said

"Oh. Right, well I'm Rick, this is my cousin Frank."

We all said Hello, shook hands, etc.

"NOW PREPARE TO DIE!"

I took out my laser umbrella and activated it.

"Oh! Shiny!" yelled Frank

Apparently he was a dumbfart, cause he pranced up and tried to poke it with his finger.

"AHHHHHH!"

And burned it.

"I hurted my hand!"

"Well that was easy." I said to myself

Rick Astley flexed in his black spandex, then jumped up to attack.

"You know the rules, and so do I!" he began to sing

Our lightsabors met, he twisted around and did one of those stupid show-off back flips. I poofed a pig out of midair and dropped it on him, but he sang it out of existence.

"Yoga has taught you well," he said darkly "but you are no match for…"

Then he tripped and broke his neck.

"What do you know, that was easy too! Dumbfart."

"Let's go." said Ham

So we climbed up the stairs to Britney Spears' lair. Two dark red menacing eyes glowed out of the darkness.

"So, you have finally come…"

Then some freaky music played and a Disco ball dropped from the ceiling.

"Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?"

"AH! I can't take the evil girly singing!" I shouted

"Quick, bust the speakers!" yelled Ham

I took the Epresso guy (is expresso the only flipping word in the dictionary with the letter 'x'?) and chucked him at the sound equipment, plus a couple of chickens. The speakers broke and sizzled, and the music went out.

Britney jumped up, a fire in her eyes. Her hair had gone all spiky from the dragon ball.

"How dare you!"

She activated a double bladed microphone, and we began to duel.

"Mortal Combat!" yelled Bon, singing the theme song

The Britney craphead did a kung-fu pose and erupted in one of those Japanese manga fire poses. I tried to chuck some animals at her, but they all turned into hamburgers and crap. She spun around and threw her saber at me in a boomerang move, I jumped over it; then farted at her, igniting her fire thing into an explosion and knocking her to the ground.

"Boo yah! Dragonball that, craphead!"

She snarled as she got up, and charged at me. I blocked it with a spray of barn animals. She turned around and threw a fireball; which I reflected back at her with toaster boy. This time, I charged, throwing one of Yoga's fancy spancy, really fast barrage of sword moves. Britney blocked the first three, then came down on me with a vertical strike. I spun around and caught the hilt of her sword, but she shook it out of my grasp. Then a laser bullet came out of nowhere and she fell to the ground.

"" (What? This was freaking boring.)

"Well then, I guess we're done."

So we fished through Britney's left pocket and found the spud mind control thingy. I decided to keep that. Hey, they were freaky, but it was nice to have a bunch of potatoes wait on your every whim and need. Then after 300,000 million billion tries we couldn't get the mento in the stinking Breath Star Trench, so we Febreezed the Sucker, and the day was saved. Or the Jonas Brothers. Whichever.

So that's it, you wasted 20 minutes of your life reading this freaking story. Congratulations. What you want? An award or something? Now go home. I want some freaking breadsticks.

The Flipping End


End file.
